For Love
by SylvanDreamer
Summary: Oneshot. What would you choose and how far would you go for love? Warning: slash. multiple pairings.


I just **had** to write this! The idea was too wonderful to pass up! hewhoistomriddle, you will most probably murder me for this, but what the heck.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and all related merchandise.**

**For Love**

_ For Love or Glory…_

"I believe everyone's capable of falling in love," the blonde-haired movie actress smiled into the camera as she held the hand of her latest fiancé.

Lord Voldemort stared fixedly at the television before he raised his wand and blasted it apart. The eyes of the muggle family trapped in the room widened even more in terror, tears streaming down their cheeks as the Death Eaters closed in on them.

Five hours later, his robes speckled with blood and Merlin knew what else, Lord Voldemort strode into the headquarters of the Dark Order. His Death Eaters, a high-spirited bunch from their latest killing spree, apparated back into their own homes. The Dark Lord sat beside the fire and instead of planning his next move against the Order of the Phoenix as he was wont to do, he closed his eyes and let the memories flow again, a luxury he didn't often indulge in.

The room was dark, the fire burning low, and Nagini hissing contentedly near his feet. But in his mind's eye, he saw a pale-skinned girl of sixteen with long, rippling black hair and bright, Slytherin-green eyes. Eyes that were wide open with pain.

_"I love you, Tom," _she had whispered. Apparently, she had not loved him enough.

He often wondered if one of the reasons why he hated Harry Potter was that whenever he looked into the boy's eyes, he was reminded so much of her.

_"I have to do this," his eyes always burned brightly whenever he spoke of it. "I have to restore the glory of Salazar Slytherin once again. I have the ability, I have the power. I can become great, rise to the top. I know I can. Come with me. We can rise to glory together."_

In the end, she had made him choose. His dream… or her love.

_"I'm sorry, Lycia," he moaned as he trained his wand right at those beautifully horrified green eyes. "But I can't give up all that glory. Even for you."_

It had been the first time he had used the Killing Curse. Afterwards, he had placed his first Horcrux in the locket of Salazar Slytherin that he'd given her for her birthday. It was the last time that Tom Marvolo Riddle had ever cried. It was also the time that he ceased to become Tom Marvolo Riddle. From that moment, he took on the identity of Lord Voldemort.

_I believe everyone's capable of falling in love_. Even the person who had purged himself of emotion still felt the memory of love glimmering in his shattered heart.

_Does the pain never cease? _What if she had chosen to rise with him to glory? What if… _he_ had chosen love?

But such thoughts never stayed for long in the Dark Lord's mind. Soon enough, he had risen from the chair, his eyes clear and blood red, mind working feverishly on the next ambush. And the memory buried once more… to resurface again when some faint spark of his dim past recalled it.

_…Everyone's capable of falling in love._ But not everyone's capable of keeping it.

* * *

_For Love or Honor…_

It was the most important evening of their lives.

Purebloods as a rule were very discreet and classy, wanting to depict only a sophisticated, cultured image to their peers. But weddings were the only exceptions. Even though the marriages in their circles were arranged, it was one of the few times when purebloods actually took the time to really enjoy themselves. And this, _the _biggest wedding of the year, of Lucius Malfoy to Narcissa Black, it was no exception. Everything was at its grandest. The Blacks and the Malfoys looked on with satisfied smiles on their faces that their children had once more made exceptional matches.

"May I have this dance?" Narcissa spun around and saw Lucius, her new husband, bowing down before her, impeccable in his dress robes.

She smiled, trying to hide the spark in her eyes and the sudden skip in her heart as she graciously gave him her hand. He led her to the dance floor and together, they waltzed to the romantic music. Everyone in the ballroom stared at them and murmured at what a perfect couple they looked. Narcissa didn't even hear the audible whispers. She was lost in a fairyland where no one existed but her and Lucius and the music and this perfect moment.

She had loved Lucius Malfoy since Fifth Year. But in their world, such feelings were repressed and hidden. She had never in her wildest imaginations thought that her parents would engage her to him. Now the moment was here. They were married. She never thought she could be happier.

Lucius looked down at his bride and knew she was the most beautiful woman in that room. Her blue eyes sparkled with what he hoped was happiness, and there was a lovely smile on her face. Lucius wished that he could dance with her until the night wore on into morning or the music ceased to play. She felt so perfect in his arms, like she was made for him. He knew he was the envy of every male in the room.

He had loved Narcissa Black since Fifth Year. But he had always been taught that emotions are a weakness, and must be tamed and crushed so they do not cause dishonor in the family. The Malfoy name was most important of all aspects of his life. But now he was here. He was her husband. Lucius never imagined how he had gotten so lucky.

But the music ended. The dancing stopped. And it was with regret that Lucius took Narcissa's hand and walked back with her to their table.

They sat in their designated places, in the center of the table, as the newlyweds. Lucius took in his bride with love and pride in his eyes. Perhaps he should tell her? Tell her that he loved her. That true to his vows, he would care and cherish for her forever.

Narcissa looked up at Lucius and saw the glimmer of a familiar emotion in his eyes. Her breath caught. Perhaps tonight she should tell him? Tell him that she loved him. That she would remain true and his till death held them apart.

They both opened their mouths to say the words. But –

"Lucius? Narcissa?" Cerulea Malfoy smiled at them, her cold eyes glittering. "I do hope you will soon bear an heir. The honor of the family depends upon you both." Her eyes were piercing. "Do not let us down."

Honor. Honor decreed that love was not a part of their lives. The moment came and passed. The words died on their lips as they remembered the reason why they were married.

"Of course not, Mother," Narcissa smoothly replied to her new mother-in-law.

"We won't let you down," Lucius added.

So the years passed. Two people lived together, loving each other in quiet desperation, never knowing that their love was returned. Draco was born. The words that could have once been spoken faded as more years passed, till the love they had felt was nothing more than a dried and withered leaf. Nothing more than a memory.

Narcissa turned bitter, cold and disillusioned as her mother and Lucius' mother was. Lucius turned aloof, superior and uncaring, as his father and Narcissa's father was. They followed in the footsteps of their parents, to ensure the honor of their families' names.

But not even honor could save them from the biting chill of the night when you lie in your bed without a warm body to turn to when the cold wind rushes past.

* * *

_For Love or Pride…_

Ronald Weasley knew he was a coward. Hermione had had a point when she'd screamed at him after the Yule Ball. There were so many things he had wanted to do, to tell her. But in the end, he was never able to swallow his pride. Harry had once said it was bigger than the giant squid.

The guys in his year – led by Seamus Finnigan – had tried setting him and Hermione up once. It was during Valentine's Day at Fifth Year. Seamus had made the reservations at Madam Puddifoot's. Dean had dressed him up in borrowed clothes. Neville had bought the chocolates and the flowers. Harry had cajoled Hermione into stepping out with him for a spot of tea. Ron only had to be Ron.

But Ron being Ron, something was bound to go wrong.

The afternoon had started off well enough. It had been awkward at first, realizing that he and Hermione were on a date. But after they had found a common topic to talk about (which had turned out to be their loathing of Umbridge), the awkwardness vanished into thin air. Ron actually found he was enjoying himself. He and Hermione moved from one animated conversation to the other, never noticing how their hands were inching closer and closer to each other or how the other customers at Madam Puddifoot's gave them both knowing smiles.

The disaster began when Ron excused himself to go the washroom. He had to pinch himself in there to make sure it was all real. There was a happy glow in his eyes as he looked his face in the mirror. With a smile, he walked back to Hermione. Only to find her sitting at their table, talking to two boys. One of them touched her arm and gave her something. She smiled at him and Ron saw red.

He stomped back there with an ugly expression on his face. A screamfest ensued, with Hermione barely restraining him from punching one of the two boys. The boys had hurriedly left, casting frightened glances back at Ron.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione had shrieked.

"What are you, holding court now? Accepting your gifts and tributes?" Ron had sneered. "I can't believe you were flirting with those two!"

Immediately, Hermione's expression had grown stony and Ron knew he had said the wrong thing. "For your information, Ronald Weasley," her voice was dangerously low. "One of them was my partner in Arithmancy. We were not flirting, he was merely thanking me for doing all the research during our last meeting, since he was in the hospital wing. And that 'gift' he gave me was all the research for our next meeting! What kind of slut do you think I am?"

She had slapped him, the sound echoing throughout the silent tea shop. "And just so you know," she added viciously. "The other boy with him was his boyfriend."

She had left and he had slumped back on the table. Not long afterwards, Lavender had come in, seen him looking alone and immediately joined him. He didn't know what happened, but he soon found himself telling Lavender everything. A few minutes more, and they were snogging with Ron only half aware of what was happening. When he finally pulled away from Lavender, he saw Hermione, a horrified look on her face standing in front of them. She had forgotten her bag.

Later in the Gryffindor common room, he saw Hermione sitting with Harry, Harry's arm slung around her in a comforting gesture. Hermione had lifted tear-stained eyes up and they had met his.

Ron had the words. He knew what to say and do for her to forgive him. But the memory of the slap sent his pride roaring up again and he wordlessly made his way up to the dormitories, trying to ignore Hermione's sobs.

"She would've taken you back," Harry had said to Ron that night. Ron didn't reply. He knew. And pride laughed in his face.

* * *

_For Love or Immortality…_

"I've done it!" Nicolas had announced to Perenelle one night. "I've created the Sorcerer's Stone!"

They had opened numerous bottles of champagne and danced and celebrated till morning. It was without a doubt one of the happiest moments in their lives. After all, who would not want to live forever with the person that they loved? Life was perfect.

But the days stretched by into months. The months melted into years. The years became decades. And the decades turned into centuries. It became weary to live on and on, with nothing to look forward to, no end in sight. Just a vast nothingness, a tunnel that winded into infinity. It was trying and painful. To see people who had become your friends age right before your eyes then pass away into something better, something that you cannot reach or hope to attain.

Whenever thoughts like these entered Perenelle Flamel's mind, she often thought of Nicolas. Nicolas had worked so long and so hard for this. The Sorcerer's Stone and the Elixir of Life was his lifelong dream. It made him so happy. She could not just tell him that she did not 'want to live forever'. Nicolas would be so crushed. And Perenelle loved her husband too much for that to happen.

So she smiled and went about everything as usual and lived. As though nothing was wrong. But her soul was slowly withering and dying inside.

Nicolas Flamel was living in desperation. Now that he had all of it that he wanted, time seemed to crawl by at an infinitesimally slow pace. Life suddenly struck him as monotonous, the same day in and day out. He did not even feel as though he were truly living in this world anymore. It was as if he was only existing, while life was passing him by. He was a mere bystander while events played out in front of him, with him sorely wishing he could be one of the players.

Whenever he felt like this, he did his best to banish it from his heart. He only had to think of Perenelle. Her gentle smile, her quiet ways. She deserved no less than this and more. She seemed so happy and Nicolas could not just take that away from her by saying that he wanted to die. Perenelle would be anguished. And Nicolas loved her too much for that to happen.

So they lived. And lived. And lived.

One quiet evening, which was no different from a thousand quiet evenings before, Nicolas spoke up. "Penny?" he asked hesitantly. "Are you happy?"

Perenelle looked surprised. _Has he realized something? _"Of course I am," she paused. "Are you?"

Nicolas felt his breath catch but responded normally. "Yes. I am."

But both thought, _I mustn't be selfish. If this is what makes him/her happy, it is my happiness too._

And eternally, they lived out the lie.

* * *

_For Love or Life…_

Whenever you're asked how much you love a person, you usually reply that you love that person enough to die for them. But you're rarely given the chance to prove that. One balmy spring evening, inside Godric's Hollow, Lily and James Potter were handed that chance.

The front door slammed open and a furious wind howled into the house. Inside Harry's nursery, Lily and James' eyes widened. His lightning fast reflexes did James some good. He swiftly grabbed Harry from his crib and handed him to Lily.

"Lily, take Harry. It's him. I'll hold him off. Go!"

Lily and James' eyes met for the last time. Lily pressed her lips to James' and ran, hoping that he saw the unsaid words etched into her face and her very being. _I love you._ James had read the words and they gave him strength when he would face the Dark Lord.

Grimly, he held his wand as he prepared to stave Voldemort off. A thousand memories resurfaced of him and Lily in Hogwarts. He remembered that she had hated him since their first year. And James had never known happiness equal to what he had felt when Lily had finally consented to go out with him during their Seventh Year. They had not had much time together.

Tears gathered in James' eyes that he tried to blink away. He would have wanted more time with Lily. And Harry. Gods, they had just been with Harry for barely a year. James wanted more time. Time to live with his family. More Christmases and holidays. To raise Harry with Lily. Teach his son how to fly. Make love to his wife one more time. James wanted to live.

_"You wouldn't know what sacrifice is if it hit you on your overly large head, Potter."_ Lily had scornfully said to him in their Third Year.

_You lose, Lils_, he thought as Voldemort entered and uttered out the words to the Killing Curse. _I do know what sacrifice is._

He hoped to Merlin he had bought Lily and Harry enough time as the green light speeded towards him.

Lily heard James' scream and stifled the tears. She tried to run faster but just a few hundred yards away from the house and Voldemort apparated in front of her. She shrieked and tried to shield Harry.

"No! Please not Harry! Take me! Please not Harry!" she screamed at Voldemort. But Lily was barely aware of what she was saying. A thousand other thoughts, a million other memories were flashing through her mind.

She did not want to die. Lily felt horribly ashamed at such unGryffindor-ish thoughts but she couldn't help it. As members of the Order of the Phoenix, she and James were expected to be brave, to face death when it happened. Who knew that thinking such thoughts and actually facing death were two different things? She wanted more time. More time with James. More time with Harry. To be a mother and if possible, a grandmother. One last chance to tell James that she loved him…

_"One day, Evans, I'll prove it to you," James' eyes were burning with an emotion that Lily felt too scared to name. "I'll prove to you how much I love you."_ You've already proved it, James. Lily's eyes blurred with tears.

Her scream echoed throughout Godric's Hollow as the Killing Curse took her life.

Voldemort then trained his wand at the innocent baby boy who had fallen to the ground, bereft of his mother's arms. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

The curse rebounded back to him. And the love and sacrifice of two people preserved the life of a third.

* * *

_For Love or Happiness…_

_Who would've known?_ Sirius Black wryly asked himself as he surreptitiously observed Remus Lupin studying in the armchair by the fire of the Gryffindor common room. _That I'd fall for him? Remus, of all people_.

James caught his look and smirked at him. "You're pathetic, Padfoot. Go up there and tell him."

Sirius felt his face flush and glared at James. "Says the guy who Lily Evans has hated since First Year!"

James shrugged. "Hey, at least Evans knows how I feel about her. Remus on the other hand…"

"Sod off, Prongs!" Sirius hissed. "He'd hate me if he knew." Sirius glanced at Remus again, who was now scribbling notes on a piece of parchment. "He'd hate me…"

Sirius' mind flashed back to the time when he, James and Peter had followed Remus during the full moon. They had seen him freeze the Whomping Willow and, with James and Sirius leading and Peter lagging behind, they followed Remus. That was when Sirius had seen the secret that Remus had been hiding all that time. Remus Lupin was a werewolf. The three of them had nearly been killed that day and Remus had been furious with them afterwards. But looking back now… Sirius realized it was probably the first time that he had fallen in love with Remus.

_I could never make him happy_. Sirius thought of his family. The Blacks were absolute pureblood fanatics. If he even so much as dared to defy them and tell them that he loved Remus Lupin, a half-breed, Sirius knew that their rage could equal even the Dark Lord's foulest temper. Who knew what they would even do to Remus? Sirius couldn't do that to him. He could never bring him into his world. The pureblood world of politics, murder and secrets behind every door.

_If only things were different…_ But they weren't. Morosely, Sirius muttered a good night to James and dragged himself off to their dormitories.

James took in Sirius' slumped form and walked over to where Remus was sitting. He didn't speak until Remus frowned.

"Okay, what did I do wrong this time, Prongs?"

James raised a brow. "Aren't you ever going to tell him, Moony?" James asked softly.

Remus paused as he reloaded his quill. "No," he stated firmly as he began to write again. "You know I can't…"

_I could never make him happy._ Remus thought of full moons. Of having to endure the pain of transformation and the hunger for blood and flesh in his wolf form. Sure Sirius was an animagus, and could safely accompany him when he was a werewolf but it was too much to ask Sirius to share his pain with him. Remus thought of his haggard parents, who always smiled and supported him no matter what. He knew that they never spoke of it, but it was exhausting to have a son who was a werewolf. Remus did not want to inflict the same pain that he had to them to Sirius.

"What if he liked you back?"

The question surprised Remus. He glanced questioningly at James. "What?"

"What if Sirius actually liked you back?" James asked again impatiently.

Remus flushed. "He doesn't… but if he did, it's better that he doesn't know. He could never be happy with a werewolf…"

James shook his head. "Sirius doesn't think of you like that, Remus."

Years later, that conversation and that night would stand out vividly in Remus Lupin's mind. He didn't know why, but after so many years had passed he was still unable to forget it. And now, standing in front of James and Sirius' graves, he recalled every word that had passed between James and himself that night. And he finally allowed himself to cry, the tears dripping down to the damp soil as he clutched the last letter Sirius had written in his right hand.

It had been folded and unfolded so many times, read over and over so many times. And he could still see the words as though they were seared into his mind. _Remus, I've always loved you._

If he had told Sirius… would Sirius be alive right now? Remus Lupin stared at the darkening sky. It was dusk. Tonight was a full moon. He had to get ready for his transformation. He fingered the bottle of Wolfsbane in his robes.

He had denied love, in the hopes that Sirius would find happiness without it. But what if… happiness and love actually came hand in hand?

He had chosen. Now, he would have to face the future with that choice.

* * *

_Everything For Love…_

"It doesn't change who you are, Draco," Harry's voice was soft. "I know you."

Draco Malfoy stood looking at him, his posture brittle and his expression unreadable. Outside of the Astronomy Tower, the full moon bathed them both in an ethereal light. Harry stepped closer to Draco and though Draco wanted to step away, his feet wouldn't obey his mind.

"It doesn't change the fact that I'll always love you," Harry whispered before closing the distance between them and sealing it with a kiss.

He and Draco clung to each other for one sweet moment before Draco pulled away. Hurt flashed briefly in Harry's eyes but he managed a smile before swiftly leaving the Astronomy Tower. The sleeve of Draco's left arm fell back in place, covering the still painful Dark Mark that seemed to throb in his skin.

The next morning, several Slytherin students, Draco Malfoy among them, went missing. Ron scornfully spat out that they had undoubtedly left to become Death Eaters. Only Hermione noticed the way Harry's face paled and the bright tears that went unshed.

They played out their destinies. Harry studied intensely under Dumbledore's tutelage. There was a different light in his eyes nowadays. A determined one. He trained and studied magic like the war would be happening the very next day. In fact, it seemed to his best friends that there was little else he did.

Draco entered the Dark Order, carrying out the wishes of the Dark Lord. He learned to kill, he learned to torture, he learned to control. But throughout all the brutality that surrounded him, he never forgot to be human. Whenever he felt like he couldn't take the darkness, a pair of sparkling green eyes and a warm smile kept him going. Only Lucius observed his son, sorrow touching the place that he thought had long forgotten how to feel.

After a particularly grueling training session wherein Harry had collapsed from fatigue, Hermione handed him some food when he woke up and he took it gratefully. Hermione frowned. She couldn't hold it in any longer. She had to know.

"Why do you do it, Harry?" she asked sadly. "Why do you want to fight so hard?"

"It's all for love, 'Mione," he had replied simply as if he expected her to understand. She didn't, but the light in his eyes reassured her.

After a bloody mission out, Lucius had taken Draco aside and spoken to him the first words of wisdom that Draco could ever remember hearing. "Draco, if there is ever one thing you need to know, it is this. Mistakes are made so we can learn from them."

The very next day, Draco contacted his Uncle Sev and asked to be made a spy for the Light. When an astonished Snape confronted him about his decision, Draco's answer was eerily familiar.

"I'm doing it for love, Uncle Sev."

The next time they met was in the battlefield. They were older, more battle-weary, more realistic. But they had both held on to what had always been there, to what they could not let go of.

Harry slowly let his wand hand fall. After three years, he still could not fight Draco. Draco would have to kill him now. Because Harry could not find it in him to kill the person he loved. He waited for the Killing Curse, for the green light to finally hit him. But it never did.

The next thing he knew, there were shouts of "Blood-traitor!" in the air, and Draco was fighting beside him. Shocked, Harry forgot about the battle and incredulously stared at Draco.

"I thought you knew me, Potter," Draco smirked as he Stunned another Death Eater. "Stop gawking and help me with these idiots."

Ron nearly passed out but fortunately for him, Hermione was there to kick him back into action. The Light was shocked at first ("He's going to turn against us at the last moment!" Zacharias Smith had protested), but seeing Harry and Draco fight together had spurred them back into fighting with all their hearts too.

A terrible blast of green light announced the arrival of Lord Voldemort. Harry and Draco's eyes met. "I know you can do it," Draco said quietly. He stepped back. "For love, Harry."

Harry nodded, Draco's words banishing the fear he felt. "For love."

Hours later, when the body of Lord Voldemort was nothing but dust that had fallen on the ground, and the battlefield was nothing more but a place bathed in blood and studded with bodies, Harry and Draco met the triumph in a kiss.

"You waited for me," Draco whispered.

"I know you, remember?" Harry teased.

Everyone tried to keep from gagging at the obvious sappiness but couldn't stop the smile that spread in their faces as one of the truest love stories unfolded before their eyes.

**End**

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"_Love transcends glory, transcends honor, transcends pride, transcends death, transcends eternity, transcends boundaries of race and blood. Only then is love truly love."_


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